Epiphany
by E. H. Redlum
Summary: This is a one-shot short story, takes place sometime before Finch's kidnapping (although, the date really doesn't matter..essentially it's a time when everything is "normal"). When something important is brought to Reese's attention, he and Finch have to come to grips with how they view each other.


"Finch, we need to talk."

"What is it, Mr. Reese?" Finch said as he met John Reese's serious stare.

"I was out with Zoe, as you know," Reese said as he unbuttoned his suit jacket, rolling his shoulders.

"And?" Finch said absentmindedly as he went back to clicking on his keyboard.

"And she brought something rather important to my attention."

Reese loosened his collar and shifted slightly from foot to foot. After a few drinks he was feeling a bit hot and uncomfortable in his usual attire.

"Does it have anything to do with our current number?" Finch said curiously, turning his upper body in Reese's direction.

"No," Reese said slowly, "it has something to do with us."

"Us?" Finch said, bewildered.

He rose from his computer chair and hobbled to a wall where he had pinned a photograph of a woman earlier that day. Normally, he wouldn't condone Reese going to a bar in the middle of surveillance, but they needed Zoe's help. If it took a few drinks and a little flirting, so be it. Zoe was a beautiful woman and Mr. Reese, for all intents and purposes, was a very handsome man.

After taping a little note, an address, next to the photograph, Finch returned to where Mr. Reese was standing. Raising an eyebrow inquisitively, Harold noted he was still standing in the entryway. Normally the tall man would have found a way to make himself look at home by now.

"Are you going to elaborate Mr. Reese?" Finch asked.

When no answer came from John, who was letting his eyes wander over Harold to an uncomfortable degree, Finch continued.

"Is something wrong?" he added some urgency to his question, "Is the library in some sort of danger?"

"No," Reese said smoothly, moving closer.

"I'm supposed to be the cryptic one, Mr. Reese," Finch said, furrowing his brow.

"I know," Reese said, stopping about an arm's length away, "but you're a very private person. I'm getting around to my point."

"You can't get around any faster?"

"You're also a very impatient person, Harold," John murmured just loud enough to be heard.

"And you're impulsive," Finch said with frustration, "and we could really name each other's flaws all day if we wanted."

"We could, couldn't we?" Reese said with a little grin.

"Yes," Harold said slowly, "how much did you have to drink, John?"

"Enough," John said as he moved even closer, planting both his hands firmly on Harold's shoulders.

Their faces were so close Harold could smell the alcohol on John's warm breath as he spoke. Shrugging a little uncomfortably, he looked at John with wide eyes.

"You take so much time picking out these little suits, Harold," John said with a smile as he looked down at Finch's impeccable outfit.

"Are you going to make that point, Mr. Reese?" Finch asked quietly, trying the best he could not to breathe on John.

"Zoe wondered," John said softly, pausing for a long while, "if we were gay lovers."

Harold let his mouth fall open incredulously as John burst into laughter. Letting out a short snort of laughter himself, Finch shook his head with skepticism. John still had him by the shoulders as he chuckled, eventually patting him on one and releasing.

"Where would anyone get that idea?" Harold asked disbelievingly.

"I don't know," John shrugged, "but all I told her was that we had hit a rough patch in our relationship."

Glaring at John as he laughed, Harold resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Thank you," he said dryly, "we didn't have enough on our hands without everyone questioning our sexuality."

"Don't get so upset, Harold," John said as he sat down, still smiling in amusement, "I just think we need some time apart. We can still make this work."

"No, John," Harold sighed, returning to his computers, "you just aren't my type. Just look at those suits you wear," he continued disdainfully, "no sense of style."

"Oh my god," John exclaimed, looking as though he just had an epiphany, "you really are gay, Harold."

"You're hopeless, Mr. Reese," Harold said as he eased himself into a chair.

There was a long silence then, interrupted only by the clicking of keys and the occasional laugh from John. Eventually things grew more sober; the atmosphere in the room returned to its normal state, and John decided to speak.

"Harold?"

"Yes, Mr. Reese?"

"I think we might argue like a married couple."

**For a moment there, I'm sure I had some Rinch fans going. As it is, though, this story was actually a stab at the Rinch cult growing around the show – no offense to those who support it, of course. Although John and Harold aren't characters that I would ever pair together, I have nothing against those who obsess over seeing them that way. Actually I've found some of the art and stories surrounding the idea quite impressive – just expect nothing but playful (and clever, if I execute correctly) bashes at the concept from me.**


End file.
